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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716134">That's why I love you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessSamurai/pseuds/UselessSamurai'>UselessSamurai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>League of Legends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, affectionate rambling, i am not only soft but also emo for them, listen jayce and ez are meant for each other, wrote it in one stitting at 2 am out of pure longing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:22:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessSamurai/pseuds/UselessSamurai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezreal is back in town and as always makes his way to find his very much favorite company.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ezreal/Jayce (League of Legends)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>That's why I love you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>‘I value you so much because you don’t try to stand in a way of the thing that makes me the happiest’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Is that a compliment? I’m not sure if I shouldn’t be offended. According to what you’ve just said, I am not the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>that makes you </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel the happiest.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘See? that’s why I love you. You get me.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Well, if you say so. I wish you would not make me think this much when I don’t have to. It’s my off-hours.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jayce’s sly smile widened as he caught a glimpse of Ezreal, who was sitting comfortably spread on a worn-out armchair. It snuggled its way long ago into Jayce’s cluttered workshop, finding the perfect spot in the corner, surrounded by well-organized shelves. The piece of furniture used to be royal blue and intricately webbed with little quilts, but both time and its surroundings bleached the color of the seat to match the verdigris stains of its frame. It was supposed to get salvaged for springs and upholstery nails quite some time ago, but since Ezreal found it comfortable, the recycling process has halted. Partially, because otherwise, Ezreal would sit on the workshop counters, which caused everything to fall off. Another thing was Jayce finding genuine satisfaction in seeing Ezreal so easily satisfied with nothing more than a piece of recyclable trash. Just like the ones he brings from his journeys. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘So what rubble did you bring from this trip?’ Jayce took off his leather gloves and thrown them across the somewhat organized desk. Since Ezreal was back from wherever the fuck he had been the past month, it was a perfect time to take a well-deserved break to catch up with his partner. ‘Does it glow in the dark like that pseudo-hextech crystal you’ve smuggled last time or are you back to stacking debris?’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Your lack of enthusiasm hurts me’ The noise of tools being haphazardly organized overshadowed Ezreal’s loud snort. ‘If I didn’t know that you appreciate my work behind my back, I would be really insulted. I would even consider calling you an asshole but on that pet name, you react even without my mal intentions.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Shame upon those who don’t accept their true nature’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘An </span>
  <em>
    <span>arrogant </span>
  </em>
  <span>asshole.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘That makes two of us.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Fair point.’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ezreal stood up and dusted off his knees. Jayce’s workshop was a tight but organized space. Every wall was packed with stacked shelves that kept an order reflecting Jayce’s mind. Some of the sections grew a thick layer of dust, mimicking how some projects had fallen long forgotten, replaced by new ones that received more love from the creator himself. Considering the longevity of Jayce’s attention (or rather lack of thereof) Ezreal could have pondered on how much of an intriguing project he must have been for the man behind this impressive collection. Jayce only contemplated promising things, that have caught his attention. It fed Ezreal’s pride for how long he had been an </span>
  <em>
    <span>ongoing project </span>
  </em>
  <span>for someone who had a brain capacity to reach for bigger and better with every step he takes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Will you enlighten me on your scavenger hunt bounty? I hate to admit but I am curious.’ Finished with cleaning up, Jayce was ready to leave the workshop for a few days. He ushered his guest out of the premises and they both, more or less gracefully, stepped out right into the afternoon sun with no curtains to shield their sights from the golden hour of the day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ezreal made Jayce enjoy breaks between working his charming years away. He was someone worth leaving the desk for, someone worth listening to. He shared the same upper-class attitude towards science and knowledge which made the man get pleasurably lost in his wit. Someone of Jayce’s kind who understood him in every way while still leaving a fair share of disagreement to discuss. He was in his league and there was virtually no one else to whom the criteria applied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Not much to be fair, I know you are disappointed,’ Ezreal teased. ‘But I have some great stories to fill up the gaps, I’ve nearly gambled off my pinky not a week ago. I bet you will like that one’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Fucking stupid,’ Jayce muttered under his breath in response, loud enough for Ezreal to catch it in the middle of the late afternoon buzz of Piltover’s streets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘If only you would be there with me, Jayce, I promise I would gamble with your pinky instead.’ He smirked, showing that peacockish arrogance that reflected Jayce’s one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jayce glanced at his partner in the shade of the pale, rugged, hewn stone wall. Ezreal tanned quite a lot and he earned an ugly-healing scar down on the side of his jaw. Probably another story that will be spilled today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were strolling down a narrow alley under a gentle cover of intricately carved shadows peaking through latticework that towered over them. Cobblestone sidewalk led them like a thread between increasingly wealthier establishments that nested themselves in granite and marble and before Jayce could pick up another little talk, they were already at their destination. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Revolutionary, travel-hating inventors first.’ Ezreal opened the fairly well-decorated door to the building they both were quite familiar with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘You just want me to be the first one to trip over a cursed idol that’s probably laying on the floor right behind the door,’ Jayce remarked but stepped inside nevertheless.</span>
</p>
<p><span>That little space bought by Ezreal some time ago, quite an interesting purchase for someone more on the road than in Piltover, hosted yet unclassified spoils brought by man to his hometown from every corner of the world. One might call it a dumpster, but the concept of such would heavily contradict how Ezreal perceived his hoard. For him, it was a pile of gold waiting to be carefully cataloged and displayed.</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>The room was an office, which was heavily implied by a square, ebony desk right in the center of the place. The surrounding space was messily littered with crates and bags of gathered spoils, partially spilling over the lacquered, wooden floor. While it was in a way bigger disarray than Jayce’s workshop, the office still gave the impression that its owner really meant business with everything closed in its walls. It was professional in a chaotic way, with bundles of who-knows-what stacked on documentation and leftover sand scratching the shiny floor. The only part of the room that seemed unaffected by the surrounding chaos was the left corner deep inside the office, </span><span>courteously separated from the rest of the space by a room divider (which was a cool trinket from one of Ezreal’s trips as well). Behind the hand-painted dragon that spread its lean body across the taut paper, there was an intricately carved coffee table standing between a sofa and a chair that matched it all in color and style. The whole place was a lounge facing a set of celling-reaching windows that graced its visitors with a charming view over Piltover’s roofs crawling upwards to the sky. But most importantly, pushed precisely to the corner of the room, there was a sizable cabinet filled with liquors from all over the world, tirelessly stacked by the owner just for an occasion like this one that very day.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Ezreal traveled a lot. If there was someone bored enough to lay out the statistics, they would probably come to the conclusion that he indeed had spent more time away from Jayce than he did in his company. Jayce knew this ratio way before they even came to be a thing and surprisingly, he didn’t really mind it, because he understood. Yet in another realm, he understood a man he grew to call his partner perfectly. Both of them were, before than anything, self-oriented bastards who treasured their own ways above anything in the world. And who else will understand the need for the self-fulfillment of a selfish bastard better than another one of their kind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The liquor had been poured for the better half of the evening, leaving two bottles of unnamed alcohol empty and staining the last rays of descending sunshine. The stories were exchanged, sloppier and more incomprehensively with every glass downed, leaving the space for drunken affection the more tired both Jayce and Ezreal grew. Behind the closed doors and stretched room dividers, they both could allow themselves to be sloppy and formless,  leaving titles and teases right where their sober minds had floated away to be reclaimed some time later. It was time for a drunken honesty, nearly as unkept as their equally disheveled hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Jayce, I love coming back home to you,’ said Ezreal, propping himself up on his elbow, partially squished between the inside back of the sofa and Jayce. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I love to see you back as much as I love to see you go,’ Jayce replayed after a moment of thinking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘What do you mean?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I mean,’ he began, propping himself up to face Ezreal. ‘I mean that I love to see you be happy and yourself, do your thing. I have my own thing as well, right? I think that I kinda get that.’ Jayce frowned, drunkenly keeping up with his train of thoughts. ‘I would never want to be a slave to someone who I love. I am free because you are free. It kinda makes the whole magic for me.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ezreal let himself fall back to reach with both hands for Jayce’s face. The surface scratched Ezreal’s palms with that perfect, kissable 5’oclock shadow. He leaned in, reaching for yet another sloppy kiss.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘See? that’s why I love you. You absolutely get me.’</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I rarely see people creating for this ship and with that little treat I just kinda let myself spill the ideas about them that make me happy. It's very much a simple, rather short rambling of someone who really couldn't sleep that one night. I hope it was enjoyable (I am so not used to writing fanfics is uNREAL).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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